


All I Want For Christmas

by gaydisasterdanvers



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Christmas fic, F/F, ReignCorp, Smut, Strap-Ons, candy cane, festive as fuck, honestly this is so self indulgent, lena luthor loves her, mariah carey inspired of course, reigncorp endgame, samta baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaydisasterdanvers/pseuds/gaydisasterdanvers
Summary: Like a Christmas vision- Sam appears in the entryway. She’s certainly festive, Lena has to give her that. The crisp white button down touches just above mid-thigh, a stark contrast to tanned flesh and the collar fitted around the loose knot of a deep red tie. The shirt inches up with each movement, giving the faintest glimpse of sequined red shorts lined in white fur trim. The already long expanse of her legs accentuated by socks- festively adorned in candy canes- that end just above the knee. A finger twirls absently in the soft waves that curl over her shoulders as she mouths along to the lyrics, taking slow, deliberate steps towards her spot on the couch.[a stupid self-indulgent reigncorp smut fic]
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Arias/Lena Luthor
Comments: 14
Kudos: 66





	All I Want For Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daskey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daskey/gifts).



> A belated (aka I am late at everything) Christmas gift for Daskey.
> 
> This is truly the most self-indulgent piece of fiction I've ever written.  
> It might be too much for some of you but I don't care.
> 
> and obviously everyone knows this song and it's so overdone but it's such a classic i don't care, sam arias WOULD.
> 
> **Tumblr:** gaydisasterdanvers

_i just want you for my own_   
_more than you could ever know_   
_make my wish come true_   
_all i want for Christmas is you_

all i want for christmas is you - mariah carey

* * *

Lena Luthor has never been big into the holiday season. In the back of her mind linger faint memories of Irish Catholic tradition, the old stone church with a full choir singing psalms long into the night. Christmas morning wrapped in a sweater while she sat on her mother’s knee, opening gift after gift until the floor was a sea of shredded paper and wrinkled ribbon.

  
With the Luthors, it was different. Formal. It took away from the holiday cheer- the warmth of tradition and notion of selflessness that often accompanied the season for most. So, she pushed aside the childlike excitement that she once had for the sake of detesting the happiness and cheer of those around her. Because that was easier than the cold greed of envy for those who had the perfect family to celebrate with.

  
So instead of getting into the holiday season, she chose to avoid it. Play Scrooge or Grinch or whatever others cared to liken her to. That was, until Samantha Arias came into her life. 

  
While she’ll never admit it to Sam- she’s beginning to actually _enjoy_ the holiday season. It’s the way that Sam’s house is always warm and welcoming, smelling of cinnamon and fresh pine. The tree, a towering 7 foot fir, is nestled in the corner and adorned in ornaments of all shapes and sizes. They don’t match, there isn’t a particular aesthetic to them, but it’s fitting- a hodgepodge of memories from Sam and Ruby’s past. 

  
And Sam is- well, she’s the good natured, sickeningly sweet, holiday obsessed type. 

  
The type who wakes up the day after Thanksgiving and immediately turns on Christmas music. Who demands a perfect tree, cut by her own hand after hours spent searching rows at a tree farm hours away. A perfect wreath hung on the door and the roof lines dripping white lights.For the most part, Lena has grown to like taking part in some of the festivities. 

  
(She could’ve done without the shirt that read ‘ _Jingle My Bells’_ with bells strategically placed, well, you know where.)

  
It’s these quiet moments she gets to truly savor what the holiday should be. A quiet house where she can sip wine and delve into a new novel without frequent interruption. The dim light of the tree in the corner isn’t distracting, instead it’s comforting and warm. It feels like home, something that she’s only recently learned wasn’t just a place but a _person_. This season reminds her of Sam, and the thought has her smiling around the rim of her wine glass. 

  
Without warning, the room goes dark save the faint glow of the warm lights wrapped around the tree. A moment of panic claws at the depths of her stomach, a wave of goosebumps raising the hair at the back of her neck. It’d be a bold assassination attempt, coming at her like this in Sam’s home. But she hears the faint sound of stumbling from the front room, a muffled curse.

  
“Sam?” Lena calls out as she slips a bookmark between the pages and sets her book aside. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lighting and she leans forward to search for any sign of intrusion. 

  
“Patience, babe.” Sam’s voice calls back, followed again by additional sounds of movement. 

  
Lena rolls her eyes, taking a long pull from the stemmed glass in her hand as her fingers drum a hypnotizing rhythm against her knee. Last time Sam had attempted a surprise it’d ended with nearly setting the tree ablaze with candles that were apparently necessary for mood lighting. 

  
The faint chime of bells floods the space and an anticipatory chill races the length of her spine. It’s familiar- too much so. And she definitely should’ve known better at this point. She’s rooted to the couch despite every fiber of her being telling her to move. 

  
“ _Samantha_ …” she warns. 

  
“Shh, Lena!” Sam hisses. 

  
Mariah Carey’s rich, husky voice slowly fills the space. Sultry, deep and taunting. And in time with the slow croon, a long leg appears dramatically in the entryway. 

  
“I swear to god,” Lena mutters, setting her glass down so she can occupy her arms in crossing over her chest. 

  
Like a Christmas vision- Sam appears in the entryway. She’s certainly festive, Lena has to give her that. The crisp white button down touches just above mid-thigh, a stark contrast to tanned flesh and the collar fitted around the loose knot of a deep red tie. The shirt inches up with each movement, giving the faintest glimpse of sequined red shorts lined in white fur trim. The already long expanse of her legs accentuated by socks- festively adorned in candy canes- that end just above the knee. A finger twirls absently in the soft waves that curl over her shoulders as she mouths along to the lyrics, taking slow, deliberate steps towards her spot on the couch.. 

  
The piano kicks in and the melody picks up and Sam? Well, Sam’s on her toes, moving more quickly towards the couch while running her hands down her torso, sashaying in time with the music. A hand extends toward Lena- an invitation to join in. 

  
“ _No_. Absolutely not.” Lena objects, swatting at the hand before pushing up to find her feet. 

  
Lena is quick, but Sam is quicker- fingers wrapping around her wrist to keep her from escaping. Sam falls back into the couch cushions, pulling Lena along until she comes to stand in the gap between her legs. 

  
“Come sit on Sam-ta’s lap,” she says, brows wiggling suggestively as she pats her thigh.

  
“You are incorrigible.” Lena replies, rolling her eyes as Sam’s hands grasp at her hips and pull her forward into the cradle of her thighs. Nuzzling against her abdomen, Sam pushes at the hem of Lena’s shirt with her nose and presses a kiss to the smooth patch of skin along her right hip. 

  
Nimble fingers work at the button fly of Lena’s dark jeans, “And you love me for it.” 

  
Lena hums, musing for a moment, “Debatable.” 

  
But she does- love her, that is. And frankly, despite the incredibly over the top sense of Christmas cheer, she can’t help but feel warm and content with Sam’s lips working over the sensitive skin at her waist. Despite her constant opposition to Sam’s advances, she can’t deny even for a moment that she wants her. Whether she’s in cool and composed CFO mode or like this, with a playful grin and eyes that reflect absolute adoration, she wants to feel her _everywhere_. 

  
Lena braces her hands flat on Sam’s shoulders and lets her strip the fabric from her legs- stepping clear of the denim and kicking it away. Regardless of the setting or circumstance, she’s always burning for Sam’s touch- the way her hands know every curve of her body and how to exploit every spot that’ll draw a desperate moan. 

  
Goosebumps bloom along the newly exposed flesh as warm palms ascend, wrapping around to grasp at her backside and use the leverage to pull her into her waiting lap. Planting her knees firmly in the cushions for stability, Lena wraps an arm loosely around Sam’s shoulders and drops her head until their lips make contact.

  
Sam’s lips taste like peppermint, saccharine and unfamiliar but not exactly unwelcome as they work slowly over her own. The mint tingles cool against the warm puff of breath that falls across her lips as Sam pulls further into the kiss and traces her tongue across the seam of Lena’s mouth. Parting her lips in response, she deepens the kiss. It’s so familiar, the way that Sam kisses her- carefully sipping from her lips, tracing tasting and testing the muscle of her tongue. Sam kisses unlike anyone she’s ever met- careful and patient but hungry and all consuming. Like she can’t get enough- content to kiss for hours upon hours until her lips are swollen and bruised with it. 

  
“Have you been naughty or nice this year?” Sam murmurs, breaking from Lena’s lips to kiss across the angle of her jaw. When Lena tilts her head to give better access, she responds by dragging her teeth along the bared line of her neck.

  
Rolling her eyes, Lena wraps a hand in the hair at Sam’s crown and roughly tugs until her head tilts back, “Stop talking.”

  
She kisses her hard, sliding her hand lower to grasp at the back of her neck for support before tugging Sam’s lip between her teeth. 

  
“Sounds like you’re on the naughty list, Ms. Luthor.” 

  
Fingers lock around the sharp angle of Sam’s chin, nails pressing into the delicate skin of her cheeks as smoldering brown eyes watch the way her brow arches as she leans forward and whispers against her lips, “Very well. I suppose I’m wasting your time then.”

  
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Sam smirks, tongue darting from between her lips to lick at the tip of the finger holding her chin firmly in place. “I’m sure you can still prove yourself.”

  
“Oh yeah?”

  
“Mmmhmm.” 

  
She loathes the way that she can feel the stupid grin that pulls at Sam’s lips against her own as she dips her fingers beneath lace and finds her soaked and swollen. She’s embarrassingly wet for someone who acts completely disinterested in her lover’s ridiculous approach. Curse her body for betraying her resolve, but it’s too late to fight it now- Sam knows and it shows in the bright, hopeful gleam in her eyes. 

  
Sam’s touch is teasing, feather-light presses of her fingertips that dance back and forth over her folds without pressing inside. Lena drops her hips, searching for the friction she craves with each roll of her body into Sam’s hand. Fingertips find her clit and circle it with practiced ease before dipping lower. A hiss slips past her lips and oh fuck, she’s so wet that it floods Sam’s fingertips when she pushes inside with two digits. They both gasp as they find each other’s lips, breathing heavy against each one another as Sam pushes her fingers as deep as the position allows. She works Lena over with shallow thrusts, curling her digits against her most sensitive spots as she pulls out before pushing back in again. The smaller woman rolls her hips to meet each thrust, gasping curses as they meet on a well timed thrust that sets her body trembling.

  
It doesn’t take long from there, Sam knows her body well- setting the perfect tempo with her fingers while her thumb pulses against her sensitive clit with each movement. She loses herself in the rhythm, the sounds of her own slick, wet heat pulsing around each deliberate thrust. The warmth spreads through her body, muscles tensing and shuddering as she sinks her teeth into Sam’s shoulder- coming undone with a low whimper as the motion between her legs slows to a stop, the fingers buried inside her coaxing her body through shocks until she’s weightless against the body beneath her.

  
Lena lazily drags her fingers up and down Sam’s arm, reveling in the feel of the muscle taut and tensed beneath soft, tanned skin. The soft press of lips against her temple brings her back to reality, her breath evening and slowing as she relaxes into the comfort of the tender action. 

  
A sigh of contentment slips past her lips as she begins placing a series of kisses up the length of Sam’s neck. It’s quiet- almost too quiet- and it gives her pause. The motion of Sam’s mouth opening, the soft click of it closing a millisecond later. 

  
And oh. 

_  
Oh no. _

  
Lena rocks back, taking in the way Sam’s eyes crinkle at the corners with the pull of her smile. She can feel it coming, the wheels undoubtedly turning in the recesses of the woman’s mind to concoct a new and horrifyingly uncomfortable holiday themed innuendo.

  
Sam opens her mouth to speak again and Lena reacts: curling her fingers around the woman’s wrist, she drags the hand from between her legs, barely suppressing the gasp at the sudden feeling of emptiness. It’s a simple, yet effective tool of distraction. Sam’s mouth hangs open, the words on her tongue tangled and discarded as Lena pushes the two digits -soaked and sticky- against her lips. Hazy green eyes look on, intently watching every minute reaction as Sam’s eyes darken, pupils blown wide and eclipsing soft honey brown. Sam watches wide eyed as her knuckles disappear one by one into the warmth of Lena’s mouth. The grip on her thigh tightens when Lena arches a brow, blunted nails pressing five perfect crescents into the alabaster flesh.

  
“Fuck,” Sam rasps, focused intently on the way Lena’s tongue swirls around each finger, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks them clean of her own arousal. 

  
Lena’s lips curl upward at the expected reaction. Withdrawing the fingers from her mouth she nips gently at one fingertip before dropping her grip on Sam’s wrist and leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of her lips “That’s more like it.”

  
Grabbing at the hem of her shirt, she lifts the fabric over her head and shakes her hair loose over her bare shoulders. With Sam’s eyes still wide, jaw still seemingly stuck in a gaping position, she unhooks her own bra and tosses it aside before looping an arm behind Sam’s neck, “Now, take me to bed.”

  
Sam nods enthusiastically, jaw snapping shut as she scoops Lena into her arms and makes her way through the living space. Lena works her lips over the woman’s neck, feeling the pull of muscle and tendon- the tension there from the action of carrying her weight. She knows the skin won’t mark- a curse of Kryptonian DNA, but she bites anyway, sucking at the skin until Sam’s breath breaks in a harsh gasp and she falters slightly, pushing Lena’s back into the wall outside the bedroom. Dipping her mouth to Lena’s shoulder, she returns the favor and nips a pattern of indentations into the unblemished skin..

  
Wrapping her fingers in long brown tresses, she gives a sharp tug to remind the Kryptonian of their destination. Buttons pop open one by one as she slips her fingers down the front of Sam’s shirt, loosening the knot of the tie so she can remove the starched fabric and take in the sight of the crimson lace beneath, because of course nothing Sam Arias ever does is half-assed. 

  
In the privacy of their bedroom, Sam gently drops her back on the bed and wastes no time slipping her underwear down her thighs. She’s bare but there is an ebbing warmth that spreads through her bloodstream, pooling low in her abdomen as she hungrily watches Sam slip the shirt from her shoulders, dropping it along with the tie to the floor. The shorts, although a bit too festive to be considered sexy, don’t leave much to the imagination and she can’t deny the way her mouth goes dry at the sight of the prominent bulge at the apex of Sam’s thighs.

  
Crawling over body, Sam kisses a path from her navel upward, stopping to nip each nipple to a stiff peak before she settles her long frame between Lena’s thighs. Pushing her hips down, she grinds low against the sensitive skin between her legs. She’s too proud to beg, instead wrapping her hand around the flex of Sam’s bicep and giving a squeeze.

  
Sam shakes her head, causing a curtain of messy hair to cascade around their faces, “You’re supposed to say ‘is that a candy cane in your pocket or are you happy to see me?’”

  
“I will literally never say those words,” she deadpans. 

  
Sam frowns, “No?” 

  
“No.”

  
“Well, that’s unfortunate.” she says with an air of disappointment. The faintest trace of a frown forms in the corner of her lips, but her eyes betray the downtrodden expression- alight with mischief and anticipation as she works to shimmy free from the shorts low on her hips.

  
“I don’t want to know why,” Lena says as she pushes on Sam’s shoulder to urge her up before rolling her back into the mattress, settling over her hips, “Please don’t tell me why.”

  
Sam folds into a sitting position, ignoring the request before continuing, “Because it’s _both_.” 

  
Oh and how she wishes for once that Sam had the ability to lie, but of course she isn’t capable of dishonesty. She’s being as earnest as always. A sigh as her emerald gaze travels from the infuriatingly smug look on Sam’s face downward. And there it is- a red and white swirled dildo- extending from within Sam’s own wet heat and pressing against her thigh. 

  
“You-” Lena begins in protest before it’s swallowed by Sam’s mouth on hers, a hand cupping roughly at her jaw while the other grabs at her hip and pulls down until she can feel the firm press of warm silicone slip back and forth along her slit. With each pass the ridges drag over her clit, exacerbating the steady throb between her legs. 

  
The roll of Sam’s hips is rhythmic, guiding the dildo along her heated flesh and applying just the right amount of pressure but never pushing inside. Lowering her hips, Lena fights for more friction causing Sam to gasp against her lips. Every movement sends shockwaves of pleasure through her core, and knowing Sam can feel everything makes it all the more intimate. 

  
“You’re so wet,” Sam acknowledges, pulling back and marveling at the way their bodies move against one another, “I think you like my holiday cheer more than you let on.”

  
Lena rolls her eyes with a scoff, “Or maybe I just want you.”

  
Wrapping a hand around the slick shaft, she pumps a few times to make sure Sam can feel the press of the bulbed end inside of her. Positioning the head at her entrance she sinks down just enough to feel the stretch, just bordering on the right side of being too much. She knows Sam’s eyes are on her, even without heat vision she feels her body glow red hot with the intensity of her gaze. Darkened brown eyes watch the way her lip catches between her teeth, the way her eyelids flutter and struggle against the pull of pleasure as she sinks her hips, enveloping the silicone inch by inch.

  
In all the times they’ve been intimate, Sam has always looked at her the same way. Always watching every motion, every expression with complete adoration and unbridled desire. Behind the passion and attraction is unparalleled care and wonder, as though she’s seeing Lena like this for the first time. It catches her off guard, causing her to falter a moment before the curl of Sam’s hand around her hip bone snaps her back to reality.

  
Tossing the mane of raven locks over her shoulder, she braces herself and sinks lower until bottoming out with a sharp exhale. She rocks her hips low and slow, savoring the delicious stretch while Sam’s hands on her hips guide, brace and stabilize her movements. There will be bruises tomorrow, as there often are- lingering evidence of the way she loses control of her Kryptonian strength. It’s the effect she’s always had, and while Sam always apologizes and kisses each lingering imprint, Lena secretly loves the reminder of just how she can make her partner lose control.

  
“Lena,” Sam warns, fingers tightening dangerously as each movement presses and pulls at the opposite end of the strapless dildo. Her focus is waning, incisors digging into the flesh of her lower lip as she struggles to keep her composure. 

  
Pressing her palms against the flat of Sam’s shoulders, Lena lifts her hips. It’s hypnotic, the way her hips rock and swivel against the object’s length. The overwhelming thought of how each movement of her hips sends delicious pressure against Sam’s g-spot. Sam thrusts upward suddenly, simultaneously gripping hard at Lena’s hip bones to pull her down to meet the thrust.

  
“Oh, fuck,” she feels herself gasp, nails pushing into the skin of Sam’s shoulders as she uses her grip on Lena’s hips to guide her while her hips do the work from below. “ _Sam_.”

  
The rhythm they establish is familiar, practiced. Sam’s arm wrapping around her lower back to pull her closer, lips, teeth and tongue working against Lena’s breasts and the sensitive skin of her chest. Slipping a hand between them, she finds Sam’s center molten- dripping around the dildo nestled between her walls. Gathering the silky heat on her fingertips, she circles the bundle of nerves. 

  
A strangled groan slips past Sam’s lips as she picks up her pace, thrusting up and guiding Lena’s every movement until she feels the pressure building dangerously low. Each deep rolling motion elicits a gasp as she struggles to maintain a rhythm, marveling in the feel of the way Sam is so close to losing control.

  
Lena slides her hand lazily over Sam’s chest, flushed with exertion, before wrapping her palm just below her jaw. She uses the soft grip on Sam’s neck to lift her head, kissing her with reckless fervor. Applying a bit more pressure with her palm, she nips at Sam’s lower lip and presses her hips to meet each thrust.

  
“You feel so good,” Sam gasps with a smirk as she feels the resistance building, Lena’s walls clenching around her. “Come with me, baby.”

  
“Please don’t stop,” Lena whimpers, dropping her forehead to Sam’s as her body fights the heavy current of her orgasm before the rip current pulls her under. For a moment, she loses control, her body trembling in Sam’s arms as she comes undone. But Sam obeys her request- moving her hips in disjointed rapid movements until she breaks too, gasping against Lena’s lips while managing to hold her gaze through the shocks that wrack her body.

  
The room is still, their limbs impossibly intertwined and labored breathing the only sound that fills the space. They remain skin to skin, foreheads pressed together as the waves recede. When Lena finally manages to open her eyes, she finds Sam’s softened sleepy gaze watching her. The vice around her heart clenches tight, a reaction to seeing something far beyond passion and lust reflected in hazeled brown. 

  
With slow, careful movements, Sam guides them back into the mattress and presses a series of soft kisses to Lena’s skin. She peppers them over her brow line, the tip of her nose, the prominent jut of each cheekbone. One final lingering kiss to her lips before she pulls away and pulls out with a sharp inhale as the dildo bobs and presses against where she’s most sensitive. 

  
Closing her eyes, Lena relaxes back into the pillows and eases her breathing back to a steady rhythm. Her limbs feel blissfully heavy, pulled as if by magnets to the soft duvet beneath her. She hears the sound of the water running in the ensuite, a cabinet opening and closing. The jingling of sleigh bells-

  
It takes a moment for her brain to register that there is absolutely no reason for that sound to be coming from the bathroom. The familiar dread builds at what Sam might have planned next. She wills her body to move, push up from the mattress and get dressed before the next surprise makes itself known. 

  
“Sam,” she manages, pushing up on an elbow against the comfort of the mattress.

  
Sam slips out of the bathroom, leaning against the door frame with that familiar stupid-cute-but-I-won’t-ever-admit-that-outloud grin. Her hips are wrapped in red leather, the harness adorned with small gold bells. A forest green dildo protrudes from the front, shorter in length than the previous but what it lacks in length it makes up for in thickness.

  
“You ready to help me top this tree?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as she saunters seductively across the room.

  
“Samantha, _no_.”

  
“But you’ve been such a good girl,” Sam pouts, teasing as she shimmies her hips causing the bells to jingle more loudly. “Why don’t you tell me what you want for Christmas.”

  
“For you to stop talking,” she responds playfully, “Get rid of that ridiculous… contraption, and kiss me.”

  
“Ouch,” the brunette replies, throwing a hand over her chest with dramatic flourish. With a short teasing laugh, she unbuckles the harness and lets it fall to the floor before finding her way into bed alongside Lena. Laying on her side, she props up on an elbow and rests her head in her palm. She’s quiet a moment, eyes roving over the length of Lena’s body as her pupils widen and eyes darken, “Do you want to know what I want for Christmas?”

  
Lena arches a brow, “Honestly at this point, no, I do not. Because I’m afraid of what you might say,” 

  
“Ask me,” Sam says with a nod.

  
Rolling her eyes, Lena turns her head and finds Sam’s eyes, “Ms. Arias, what do you want for Christmas?”

  
“You,” Sam replies huskily, smiling against Lena’s lip, guiding her back against the pillows and pinning her hands overhead as she slides over her, “All I want for Christmas is you.”

  
  
  



End file.
